


Dumbledore's Army

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Agender Character, Aromantic, Asexual Character, Bisexual Character, Drabble, Drabble Collection, F/F, F/M, Gay Character, Gen, Genderfluid Character, Genderqueer Character, Headcanon, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Character of Color, LGBTQ Themes, Lesbian Character, Multi, Other, Pansexual Character, Queer Character, Queer Gen, Queer Themes, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-26 21:17:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 4,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6256255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of LGBTQ drabbles and headcanon about everyone's favourite universe, through the eyes of one Teddy Lupin, a blue-haired, trans, metamorphmagus punk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. teddy

**Author's Note:**

> None of these are in any kind of order at all, and don't require you to read any of the others, so read all of them, or pick chapters by character, whatever you like.
> 
> Feel free to send me your ideas, I might expand on them (and give you credit).

how did we get here? well, i suppose everyone’s got an origin story.

imagine, if you will, me. teddy lupin, thirteen years old. my hair is not yet blue.

i’m standing in my bedroom. one of them, at least. this is the one that mum and dad — that is, harry and ginny — keep for me at their house. it’s a little less decorated than my room at gran’s, but it’s comfortable.

there’s a shattered mirror on the floor. tears pricking at dull brown eyes.

as a metamorphmagus, i should be able to transform into any shape i want to be. but who is there to teach me? we are rare. the only metamorphmagus i know is long gone.

but at thirteen years old, puberty is beginning. and it’s not _right_. there are lumps on my chest that hurt when i press on them, shrink ever so slightly, but this is the default shape and i hate it.

i hate that i can’t control the only talent i seem to have.

“it’ll just take practice.”

that was what everyone said. and at first, it was funny, when my hair flashed different colours over an argument at dinner, and i woke up with a nose that protruded out of my face like a beak.

but now, in the privacy of my own room, it’s infuriating. i can’t look the way i want, and i can’t explain that to anyone else, because all they see is a girl.

“i’m not. i’m not.” i flop back down on the bed, face buried in the pillow. outside, various potter/weasley children play a game of tag up and down the street. they’re having fun, enjoying the summer sun while it’s out, and i’m up here, sulking. in how many more ways can i be different from the others?

as much as they tell me, harry and ginny aren’t really my parents. i’m not a potter, or a weasley. and now — how can this even be _normal_?

transgender. i already know what it means — at this point, i’m something of an expert. it means inwardly cringing every time someone says ‘she’. it means hiding the way i look, even to myself.

the adults know something’s up. this has been going on — _badly_ — for weeks, ever since i got home from school. those changes had crept up on me during exams and now there’s nothing to distract me from the disaster happening right in front of me.

so now i hide. in my room, away from their casual inquiries. this is not a light dinner conversation.

there’s a knock, so soft it might have been imaginary. but her voice follows.

“can I come in?” victoire. perhaps the only person in the world who could make me feel better right now. possibly. i don’t want to let her in, but how can i say no?

her blonde hair seems to light up the room as she closes the door behind her. it had something to do with being part-veela, i’m sure. victoire is always like this. more so now than usual, in fact. she’s starting hogwarts in september, and she’s thrilled. the first weasley to be back in over a decade. something to be proud of.

“alright, what’s wrong?” she asks bluntly, perching herself on the foot of my bed. i put on my best frown, but she’s not convinced.

“don’t you think i don’t know? you’ve been hiding here since you got home, uncle harry says. we’re only going to be visiting for a few days and then i won’t see you for a whole month. not until school. and you haven’t talked to me at all.”

“yes i have!”

“but not like we’re best friends. or did you forget?”

no. i stare up at the ceiling so that i can’t see the hurt in her eyes. i miss her, dearly, but i haven’t even written to her since june, because what if she finds out? she’s only eleven. what if she doesn’t want to be my friend any more?

“just tell me. please.” i am a hufflepuff, not a gryffindor. i’m not brave, or reckless, or whatever the rest of it is. the small, rational part of me knows i must deal with it, but it seems like it would be a far more manageable problem if it stayed inside my own head.

“i- i’m sorry.” i’m hoping victoire will say something, will cut across me so that i don’t have to speak, but she stays silent.

“i think i’m a boy.” it was quieter than i’d intended, but the catastrophic destruction i’d been expecting does not come. the house doesn’t collapse. the world doesn’t burn. and still, victoire is silent.

“i look like a girl, and i’m not even a good enough metamorphmagus to change that. i hate it. i hate— i just want to be normal.” my voice is beginning to crack, my throat starting to get sore.

finally, she speaks.

“so you’re transgender?” she asks, very matter-of-factly.

i shrug.

“did you really think i’d care? i know what it means.” of course she does. of course. clever girl like her? i should have expected this. “if you say you’re a boy, then you’re a boy. but you’re still you.” she smiles now, and seems to be holding something back. probably a hug.

“i suppose it makes sense though. you always made your nan keep your hair short. but that doesn’t matter. boys can have long hair.” she pauses, and then says, “am I talking too much?”

i shouldn’t laugh at that, but i do. a panicked, anxious sort of laugh. is she serious? she’s brushed past the whole thing as if i were simply telling her tomorrow’s weather.

“are— i suppose— i don’t know. it doesn’t upset you that your best friend is a boy? that your best friend is trans?”

“of course not. that’s silly. you’re not just my best friend, you know. you’re family.” i bite my lip, but i know i’ve been incredibly stupid. i’ve been so afraid of what she might say, that i’ve completely forgotten exactly what kind of person she is.

“you’re going to have to tell everyone. and pick a new name. ooh, and maybe get new clothes, and you’ll look different — this is so exciting! i promise, when i come to hogwarts with you, I’ll jinx anyone who gets it wrong.” school? i’m flattered, but can i really make that change so soon?

at least someone’s excited about it.

“is it going to be ok, do you think? with mum and dad, and, well, everyone.” the weasley family is a large, but close and trusting unit. once someone finds out, everyone will be talking about it within a few days. there are a lot of opinions to worry about.

“of course it will. stop worrying about everything, you always do that. you never trust anyone. and i’m really sorry if i mess up.”

“s’ok. it’s gonna take a lot of getting used to, i think. even for me.”

“yeah. i wish you’d told me sooner — or am i not your best friend any more? you can trust me. with everything.” she’s smiling, but i’m still guilty.

“i’m sorry. it’s just— it was hard.” being shut up for weeks does things to you. the possibility of rejection plays over and over again in your mind.

“i’m sorry too. from now on, i’ll make sure you know you can trust me. everything’s going to be ok.” and who exactly is the older brother in this relationship? i should be looking after her.

but as she reaches over to hug me, we both say the same thing.

“promise.”

 


	2. charlie

charlie weasley. dragonologist. gryffindor seeker. and my favourite, gay uncle. except he’s not.

“what’s this?”

“what’s it look like? a book.” he hands it to me so i can read the cover. ‘a wizard’s guide to queer theory’. it’s old, and yellowed, but i’m immediately enamoured with it.

“it’s a little outdated now, but you might find it interesting.” he’s right — i am already flipping through to ‘sexuality vs. gender — a quick guide’.

“where’d you get it?”

“in america, actually, the year after i finished school. i was already studying dragons, and mum kept going on at me about how ‘it’s ok if you want a boyfriend instead of a girlfriend. you can tell us.’ the american wizards are a little less prudish about all this.” 

i laugh. grandma weasley is wonderful and accepting, but she doesn’t quite _get_ it. even at this point, i knew charlie wasn’t gay. i don’t know how, but i did.

“well, of course, i’d never had a girlfriend. but that doesn’t automatically mean i wanted a boyfriend. i liked dragons more than i liked dating. when everyone was in madam puddifoot’s, i was back at school with hagrid, helping him with the unicorns.”

“can i keep it?”

“course you can, that’s why i’m giving it to you. read it, improve it, show the world there’s nothing with being a little different. nor does anyone even have to label themselves. there’s plenty of definitions in there — me, for example, i’m not gay, i’m an aromantic asexual. i never thought i was gay, but i’d never heard those words before. and they fit.”

i nod. it’s a strange feeling, to finally find a word that describes exactly how you feel.

“but no one else knows?”

“i’d never bothered to explain it. maybe i should have. queer wizards — we’re still pretty hidden away. but i’m so proud of you. don’t let people tell you to hide who you are.”

“i won’t.”


	3. pansy

pansy parkinson. slytherin princess. heterosexual trans woman.

she hates dad, and uncle ron and aunt hermione, but the feeling is mutual.

me, on the other hand — i find her an intriguing soul. she never once doubted her gender, even as a little girl. and she never took shit from anyone at school. i don’t think many of the students ever even found out she was trans.

but she paved the way for us, and i do thank her for that.


	4. molly ii

molly weasley. the second, that is. eager to please. excellent gobstones player. lesbian.

you might think, with an asian mother and percy weasley for a father, that she’d have a tough time coming out. she thought so.

percy might be an uptight, neat, conservative ministry worker, but he’s not a bigot. that’s not the weasley way. and aunt audrey is an angel in comparison.

(you must think i hate uncle percy. i don’t. just his glasses.)

he cooked all her favourite food when her first girlfriend came round for dinner. audrey gave them flowers, and baked a cake.

honestly, i’m surprised the niceties didn’t scare the poor girl off.


	5. albus severus

albus is like my little brother. well, i say like. he _is_  my little brother.

he might only have been five years old, but he was one of the first to get the hang of my new name and pronouns.

clever kid, that one.

* * *

it’s the last day of august. and albus is starting to realise that the last day of august is special. but not in a good way, like a birthday. it meant that teddy was leaving.

it feels as though he is only just getting to know his new brother. teddy was his sister once, but that doesn’t really make sense any more. teddy says he’s a boy now, and boys are brothers, not sisters. lily is his sister. james is his brother. and now teddy is his brother too. one he can wrap his arms around whenever he wants, just like a real teddy.

albus likes his brother’s new name. it fits just right. grandma made him a new jumper, a yellow one, with a big black ‘t’ on it. he thinks it’s probably so people don’t forget. teddy even had to get a special piece of paper with his name written on it so people will know. when aunt hermione came to give it to him yesterday, they all laughed and celebrated with cake. he doesn’t know why, because the piece of paper didn’t do any backflips or anything, and he hasn’t seen it again.

he is currently tucked up in bed, trying to flatten the creases in his bedcovers as teddy himself climbs in, clutching a book, and wearing his jumper. no one is as good at story-time as teddy. he always gets the voices right, and he always lets albus read as much or as little as he wants.

the small marks on the pages are finally starting to make sense to him, and even though he has to follow them with his finger, albus finds them even more interesting than the pictures. as they sit curled up together, warm, comfortable, and reading about babbity rabbity, albus thinks there is nothing in the world that could possibly be better. but that makes him think about tomorrow, and how teddy will be waving to him as the train takes him to hogwarts.

albus pulls his hand away, pausing.

“what’s the matter, al?”

“you’re going to school tomorrow.” teddy set the book down, nodding.

“yeah, I am.” albus looks up at him, noticing the way teddy’s forehead creases. he wants to be excited for him — hogwarts sounds like a lot of fun — but it doesn’t seem that teddy is very excited.

“you know, you look like a boy now. your hair’s short, and you don’t have this.” albus pats his chest, remembering how teddy’s had been bigger just after he’d arrived home. the corner of his brother’s mouth curls up very slightly.

“do you think so? do you think people know I’m a boy?”

“yeah. but you’ve always been a boy, right? even if everyone said you were a girl.” teddy nods. “so does that mean you always looked like a boy?”

“i guess so.”

“i like having a brother. not james, he’s mean sometimes. i like having you.’

teddy is smiling at him, but albus thinks there is something different about it.

“are you sad, teddy bear?”

“not really.” he glances at the door before continuing. “maybe just scared.”

“of what?” teddy shrugs.

“i’m different now. people can be mean sometimes — like james.”

“but james is only mean to me, not you. you’re not that different. why would people be mean to you?”

“sometimes, people are scared of people who are different.” albus rubs his head, unable to make head or tail of this statement.

“so you’re scared of people who are scared?” he takes a moment to consider this. “people should just all be gryffindors. then they’d be brave.”

“yeah. but I’m a hufflepuff, remember?”

“take me with you then. i’ll tell everyone what your name is and that you’re a boy, and then you won’t have to worry at all.” teddy laugs, ruffling his hair, and then sighs.

“i wish i could. but I don’t think you’ll fit in my trunk, and anyway, you have to stay here, remember? you’ve got dinner with grandma and grandpa next week, and rose and hugo are coming to stay. And dad promised to take you to a quidditch game.”

“but I want to come with you!” before teddy can answer, a knock comes at the door, and ginny pokes her head inside.

“al, it’s time for bed, teddy has to go home, he’s got a big day tomorrow.” albus frowns, but nods, and puts the book aside. teddy climbs out of bed, tucking the blankets back around albus.

“don’t worry about me, ok?” he murmurs. “i’ll write and tell you all about my first day.” albus yawns, thinking about how he’ll be able to read what teddy writes.

“ok. and if it’s bad, i’ll come and help you.” grinning, teddy leans over to kiss his forehead. after ginny does the same, they both leave the room.

albus can hear soft voices outside his door, but sleep is tugging at his eyelids, and they close before he can work out what they were saying.


	6. scorpius

scorpius malfoy. heir to everyone’s favourite blonde pureblood family. slytherin to the core. genderfluid; bisexual.

scorpius once told me they considered themselves lucky. because what gender is a name like scorpius? i’m sure they’re the only kid in the last century — if _ever_  — to have been named scorpius. no gender assumptions. brilliant.

hogwarts students of every gender identity under the sun envy scorpius’ looks. their hair, shoulder length, which practically glitters in the sun; their pale, pointed features; their innate grasp of the application of makeup.

you wish you were scorpius hyperion malfoy.


	7. teddy

mum and dad — my actual mum and dad, and not the godparents — are still with me. every hour, every day.

and when i stand in my doorway, ready to say goodbye to my bedroom and go to school as a _boy_  for the first time, there they are, smiling and waving.

there are more photos in my trunk, of course, treasured pictures passed on. evidently, i need them the most. i will never know them, but i know why, and i know that at least they’re still here to see me off.

i will make them proud this year.

* * *

summer still lingers in the air, and the view from the train is remarkable, but the train ride itself is nerve-wracking. people look at me, and i have no idea what they think of me. do they even care?

i think i can consider myself lucky that i’m not being sorted, in front of everyone. like victoire.

even though she is sorted into ravenclaw.

i watch her take her seat, giving me a sad little smile as she goes, but i’m happy for her. she’ll love it there.

but even after the welcoming feast is consumed, my stomach writhes with snakes. there is a whole crowd of people moving to the door, and after that, a common room i must get to, with dormitory rooms, but which one is mine? i’m sure mcgonagall has already mentioned, and i’m sure dad told me, but i can’t be expected to remember anything in this state.

i head upstairs before going down, following a longer route that takes me past the library. it takes half an hour for me to reach the barrels.

a friendly face is waiting for me inside, and he practically drags me down the hall as i pull myself to my feet.

“come on, come on!” he says.

“you seem over-excited to get to bed.”

he doesn’t answer, pulling me along to a door that reads, ‘third years’.

“welcome.” he pushes open the door.

the first thing i notice is that it looks, unsurprisingly, exactly like the girls’ one did. and then i see bright yellow letters across the foot of one of the beds.

teddy.

three other boys sit on top of the covers.

“we thought you might need a welcoming committee.” 

i am speechless. they just laugh.

“we’re with you, one hundred percent.” 

“thanks.” what else can i say? “i— thanks.” they pat me on the back, moving now to their own beds, and my first instinct is to reach inside my trunk and pull out the photographs.

they’re always with me. every hour, every day.


	8. cedric

cedric diggory. quidditch captain, prefect, hufflepuff. pansexual.

i’ve heard stories about cedric, of course; the triwizard champion, the tragic hero. good and kind and brave and slaughtered by lord voldemort, one of the first victims of the second wizarding war. but the day i found a pamphlet under my bed was the day he became a real hero to me.

it’s colourful. that’s the first thing i noticed. it’s meant to be loud and proud — the fact that it only appears to have been distributed in the hufflepuff common room doesn’t deter from that. it’s twenty years old but i hang on to it, proud of my predecessors and determined to further their work.

it underlines the fact that going out with a girl doesn’t erase his identity. it underlines the importance of having someone to talk to — something that there is no shortage of in hufflepuff, believe me.

everyone is welcomed in our little basement home.


	9. ginny

ginny potter. the best mother i never had, superb quidditch player, weasley at heart. queer.

everyone knows the holyhead harpies are excellent at what they do, but that they’re also essentially an lgbtq-friendly feminist club. and nobody, apparently, knows it better than mum.

ginny potter is never afraid to admit anything. not even to harry that she hooked up with quite a few girls, and guys, during that year after the war when they were sort of together but not really.

not even that there was one very attractive teammate of hers who, if she hadn’t been dating dad, she would definitely have liked to sleep with.

but the fact remains that she is married to harry potter, her friend, her lifelong partner. she doesn’t think it’s necessary to label her attraction. and i think it’s admirable.


	10. alicia + katie

alicia spinnet. outstanding chaser. agender.

katie bell. also an outstanding chaser. bisexual.

alicia never felt a connection to gender, or understood it, but at school, they only ever told katie. whilst they were both close to angelina, she was inevitably busy strategising, boisterous and ambitious in a way only a gryffindor could be.

but katie was calm. she never rushed through life; her moves were calculated and deliberate. and alicia loved her.

they got married in the aftermath of the war, soon after alicia came out to the rest of her friends and family. because after such destruction, they only ever wanted to see beauty, and katie gave them that.


	11. louis

family doesn’t just mean blood. it means unconditional love. harry is my godfather, legally, but nobody in this family believes him to be anything other than my dad. bellatrix lestrange is my great aunt, but if i could tear up the proof, i’d do it in a heartbeat.

which means i have half a hundred aunts and uncles and cousins too, friends and playmates and role models. they are worth the world to me.

there is one little boy in particular, though, with whom i share very little but also quite a lot, and who i would do anything to protect. louis, my best friend’s brother, my strawberry-blonde, gryffindor, transgender pal.

i found out about louis entirely by accident. 

* * *

his first year is my sixth, and i promised aunt fleur i’d keep an eye on him. he was quiet, as a kid. while victoire and i played on the beach, and dominique would sit and tell stories to anyone who would listen, louis would keep to himself mostly, drawing, or reading, even if we were finally on holiday and he hadn’t seen us for months. 

you might think that this mirrors my own experience, keeping myself shut away while i worked out who i was, but this is normal for louis. for me, it was unusual, so people noticed right away.

so as a prefect, i do my best. being in a different house is difficult, but he has dominique, and so for the first few months, i feel he’s settled in as well as could be hoped.

it is on a cold november morning, while i’m still tucked in bed, that i notice something. the marauders’ map is open in front of me, on no page in particular. harry says he gave it to me because my dad helped make it, but honestly, i think he just doesn’t want james to get hold of it.

but i am perusing it like a book, taking note of rooms and passageways that i know i will probably never find, when a name i haven’t seen before catches my eye. _louis weasley_. there are plenty of names on the map i don’t recognise, but this is different. this is a weasley.

i know all the weasleys. or at least, i think i do. this one is currently sitting in the gryffindor common room. i know exactly two gryffindor weasleys currently at hogwarts, but neither of them go by louis. 

the map never lies, though. i know this too. i have never seen my own name written as anything other than _edward lupin_ on this map.

which means that either there is a long-lost weasley in the castle, or one of my cousins has a different name. i don’t think the first option is plausible, given the tight-knit community of weasleys, so the second option is the one i put my money on. 

whoever louis is, he’s hiding something, and i have a sneaking suspicion that it’s not dominique. but i have to be careful. i already feel like i’ve invaded their privacy. i don’t want to force something out into the open.

i carry the map around with me for the next week or so, surreptitiously checking it whenever i can. the name is still there, but i don’t have an opportunity to confirm my suspicions until one evening in the library.

i’m not even thinking about it, when i spot my cousin, the object of my theory, a few desks away, reading. quietly, i spread the map out in front of me, and the dot labelled _louis weasley_  is sitting in the very same spot.

there’s hardly anyone around, so i make the decision to approach, making sure to catch his eye first. i still don’t want to catch him unawares.

i smile, and he smiles back, a good indication. i clear up my stuff and move to sit with him, and he watches me the entire way. he looks so small, almost like his school robes are drowning him, but perhaps it’s because i’ve known this little kid since before he even existed.

‘doing some homework?’ i ask. we chat quietly for a few minutes, and i wait for a break in the conversation.

‘is there… anything you want to talk to me about?’

he doesn’t answer for a while, scratching at the table.

‘you know, don’t you?’ i simply nod.

‘i didn’t want people to think i was copying you.’

it’s a juvenile statement, sure. but the fear in his eyes, and the way he looks down at his shoes, makes me feel so bad for even contributing to this idea.

i realise now that educating my friends is not enough. louis needed a safe place to talk, to question his identity. and i will make one.

‘i won’t let anyone think that. ever.’


	12. lorcan + hugo.

lorcan scamander. avid gobstones player. genderqueer.

hugo weasley. curly-haired seeker. bisexual.

sometimes i wish i'd been at hogwarts at the same time as them. lily tells me stories about how they sit by the lake, arms around each other, hardly even noticing the rest of the world. hugo usually has flowers in his hair, courtesy of lorcan.

lorcan is one of those kids who just  _knew_ , right from the start. while hir brother is about everything you could expect from a little boy, lorcan shunned the rules, and luna encouraged it. ze looks just as good in a dress as ze does in dress robes, and everyone knows it.

hugo, on the other hand, is tall, typically handsome, and a popular quidditch hero. he's also very clear on his sexuality, and to my knowledge, no one ever gives them grief.

it's nice to know that, five years after i was last at school, it's still a safe place for kids to be themselves.


	13. colin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a reminder that 'dad' is what teddy calls harry, in case you need it.

colin creevey. harry potter fanatic. amateur photographer. gay.

everyone knows the name colin creevey. there's a boy in the year below me called colin creevey. but he's the second.

i'm talking about his uncle, the one whose name is engraved on the memorial to the fallen. the one who stayed behind to fight, and who left behind a brother to name a son.

dad likes to tell stories about the scrawny little boy who followed him around. he likes to remember the good things, because there's a hint of sadness, and guilt, whenever he talks of the ones who didn't make it.

he's still got one photo, of the two of them together. colin had only ever taken photos  _of_ him, not with him, but that was the day dad finally gave in. because colin confessed that he was gay.

dad says it all made sense at that point, why colin was so obsessed with him. he had to let him down gently, but the boy seemed to understand. 

now all he has left is a photo, and memories.


End file.
